Feeding is sacred to Jordanians- sacred in such a way that it represents affection, economics, etiquette, talent, and (to some extent) fear of God.

For the younger generation such as myself, this phenomenon is extremely irritating. For example, I cannot go have lunch at my grandmother’s house without being stuffed to death because I get faced with sad puppy-faced looks of “The food isn’t good? Don’t you love me anymore?” I can’t go have dinner at a friend’s house without their parents will consider it rude if I don’t put huge proportions of everything they have taken their time preparing for me, and so they keep piling and piling food on my plate, “Yalla 7abeebti, eish a7otelek kaman?”

So when I told my grandmother that I’m having a potluck ftoor, she freaked out, “What! You’re having your friends over and you’re having them bring their food with them? That is so 3eib! You can’t do that!”

But anyhow, it was fun, especially as my friends are actually really good cooks. I did have someone prepare soup, samboosak, and spaghetti for me, but the only thing I actually did cook was atayef stuffed with the most the random toppings such as peanut butter with Nutella, which my friends loved so much that we finished a whole plate of atayef asafeeri in 5 minutes.